


stranger

by myfinalpleasure



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: A nice sheriff who offers people his home, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Bottom Din Djarin, Chapter 9: The Marshal, Cobb Vanth is playing hotel manager, Cobb won't stfu, Cobb's Red Scarf, Cuddling & Snuggling, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, DinCobb, Even if his intention is to get into their pants, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mild canon divergence, Oral Sex, So So Touch Starved, They are switches and can't seem to decide whose in control for a hot minute, They figure it out though, Top Cobb Vanth, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, it deserves its own tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27680351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myfinalpleasure/pseuds/myfinalpleasure
Summary: Instead he watched Cobb’s gaze, which was lowered beneath thick eyelashes. He was playing with his glass again, before his eyes flicked up to meet the Mandalorian’s behind the mask. Din couldn’t deny that the marshal was ruggedly handsome, with a certain charm that could melt his beskar armour away to reveal the reserved man beneath. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds of eye contact before Cobb leaned across the table, swaying slightly with presumably the influence of alcohol in his system. “What do you look like, under there?” He asked quietly, his drawl less pronounced with his whisper. “Has anyone seen you?”----A night between the events in the bar with the townsfolk and the battle with the Karyt dragon. Cobb offers his home to the newcomers, with pleasurable circumstances that follow.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth, The Mandalorian/Cobb Vanth
Comments: 42
Kudos: 361





	stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Please ,, the Mandalorian brainrot is so strong.. I died when I saw my Corn Cobb man, I hope he comes back in another episode. I'm in love. And Din this season has been *chefs kiss* magnifique. Enjoy my hyperfixation super oneshot I pumped out with the help of my friend (she is so wonderful <3). On with my favourite bi/gay space cowboys.

“It could have gone worse, ‘suppose.” Cobb kicked some sand as they exited the building, thumbing his belt and looking to the setting suns.  
The Mandalorian’s gaze followed that of the marshal’s, and he sighed. “Just glad they’re willing to work together, for now.” 

The heat of the day was still fresh, despite the cool evening creeping in. Din felt it under his heavy armour - sweat behind his knees, on the back of his neck, in his gloves - if time and privacy allowed it, he may stray away from the town far enough to take off his gear and wipe down a bit, get some fresh air. But as he looked at the ground, where the foundling was just at his boot, Din realized he would need to settle the child in before anything else. They didn’t have any food or water left with them, and that night, he would be relying on the generosity of strangers to feed the kid. His own stomach could wait, despite the faint hunger pang he felt. 

The bi-sunset created a warm, orange glow across the desert dunes, casting a feeling of security, even with the next day’s task ahead. It had been awhile since the Mandalorian felt he had the time to appreciate the scenery; Always on the run, looking for a job, tasked with an adventure, it didn't allow for a lot of sightseeing. 

The child cooed and grasped Mando’s boot, so he leaned over and scooped him into his arms, before turning toward Vanth. 

“He needs rest, and nourishment. Is there somewhere-”

“Ha!” Cobb loudly interrupted, patting Din roughly on the back. “Any visitor in my town is a friend to me. That includes your little pet here, follow me.”

Mando had the urge to correct the marshal as he followed him that the kid wasn’t a pet, but he didn’t have an accurate description of what he was, so he left it, opting to stay silent as he crossed the town’s main roadway and into a hut tucked in the far end. 

Inside wasn’t anything particularly special, just some basic furniture, some of which looked knocked together and recycled from scraps, but it clearly suited Cobb just fine, who placed down the green helmet that had been tucked under his arm, along with his belts and blaster. 

“It’s not much,” Cobb pushed aside some glasses on the table, though he had no shame in his voice. “But we don’t need much out here. You seem like the kind of fellow who knows how to live off of bits and ends.” 

“We manage.” Mando replied gruffly, adjusted the kid in his arms. He was feeling rather ansty on his feet - it had been a long 24 hours without much rest and a lot of travelling, and he was sure he would sleep a solid 10 hours if he allowed it, but the dread of facing the giant sand creature and gaining the armour back from the marshal lay heavy on his mind. 

This deal didn’t only benefit himself and the child, but his entire culture. If the plan went awry and he couldn’t take the armour back, he wasn’t sure what he would do. It wouldn’t be fair to take it forcefully after the deal, but it felt even worse to think about leaving it behind. The recent loss of the allies back home (though he didn’t really think of it as home anymore) kept the bounty hunter on edge now, as if any bit that was left of his people inside him would crumble away if he wasn’t careful enough. 

The marshal seemed much more relaxed, considering the circumstances, especially since he was ready for a faceoff with the town’s new visitor only hours earlier. But now, the silver-haired man was sporting a grin and a casual gaze that made Din feel like there was an ulterior motive to why he and the kid were now cornered in the marshal’s hut. Mando’s fingers ghosted the blaster in the holster on his side. 

“Well, there’s green and blue milk for the kid,” Cobb gestured to the food bin, “not much to eat I’m afraid, except some Bantha veal.” He stood and pulled out a strip of dried meat and offered it to Din, who visibly calmed as he accepted it. No harm in trusting strangers, occasionally, he supposed. 

The kid happily snatched the food and was placed on the table, as the marshal poured some floral green milk into a cup, which was also passed along to the foundling, who slurped it up quickly. 

“So, uh, if that’s yours,” Cobb leaned against the counter, a little too close for Din’s comfort, and gestured between him and the foundling. “Is that what you look like? Under there?” He said this, referring to the hemet. “Or did you hook up with a..” 

The Mandalorian had picked up a long time ago that despite wearing a mask, he was unusually good at reflecting his emotions, and others were very good at picking up on his body language. Vanth clearly got the message when he stopped talking and laughed, holding his hands up defensively. 

“Sorry, that was rude of me. Never mind, hey?” He laughed, all charming grins. He struck Mando as the type of guy who thought flashing smiles and sly remarks could get him out of anything. “You wouldn’t be able to fit those big ol’ ears under there anyways, right?” The marshal reached out a hand to give a gentle tug on the kid’s ear, who cooed in response, green milk dribbling down his chin. 

Din wiped it away instinctively, before picking the kid up, who had finished his meal, clearly grateful as he let out a quieter, sleepier coo. 

“Oh!” The marshal stood up, looking around. “I’ve got a crate of sorts, he can sleep in it if he likes. Probably better than sleeping out on that old bike outside.”  
Mando followed the man into a small room in the back that appeared to be fairly unused, just some old boxes and clothes, and a few weapons on shelves. The room across the hall seemed to be the marshal’s bedroom, but the door was only slightly ajar for viewing inside.

“Here ya go,” Cobb stepped aside to reveal a rectangular crate lined with an old blanket. “Little guy is all tuckered out.” 

Looking down, Din saw that the foundling had fallen asleep while being held, so he was placed gently inside the crate, with Mando acutely aware that Vantha was watching, right behind him. He unwrapped the cowl from his neck and used it to wrap around the little green child, then left the room, closing the door behind him. 

“I appreciate your hospitality,” Mando placed a hand on his hip in the main room, “if there's anything I can do..”

“No, no,” Cobb waved his hands cooly, walking into the kitchen. “You’ll be doing more than enough tomorrow, and now, you can sit and join me for a drink.” 

“Marshal-” 

The gray haired man laughed, pulling out a glass and a bottle of something pale gold and glimmering. “I know, I know, you can’t in front of me. Unless you want a straw to just suck up from under there?” 

The look was given again, and the marshal couldn’t seem to stop laughing. Din didn’t see what was so amusing all the time, though he supposed the town didn’t get too many visitors, and perhaps Vanth had gone mildly loopy from seeing the same 30 people everyday. 

“Just kidding, you take things too seriously. Sit down,” he offered, reclining himself at the table.  
The Mandalorian took the offer, clunking down into the seat, and feeling heavier than usual. He still longed to go and take off his gear, if just for a few minutes, in the clear of any prying eyes. The recent missions had taken a toll on his body, while he was extremely well trained and adapted to his lifestyle, the peak in activity between the Guild and the business with the foundling - it was beginning to feel more like an ache in his bones, with no time to cure his exhaustion. The thought of sleeping in a warm bed without fear of his or the kid’s life could make him drool if he thought too hard about it. 

But now, he watched Cobb down one, then two, small glasses of the gold liquid without so much as a flinch, even though he could smell the bitterness of the alcohol from across the table and through the helmet. The marshal was impressive, for sure, even despite their stand off earlier. Really, to the defense of the marshal, he had only been looking out for his fellow man, and not having understood the intricacies of the Mandalorian culture, thought donning the armour would help that along. He wouldn’t have known the offense behind it, and perhaps Mando had been a bit harsh, before. But with his recent revelation with his worry for loss of connection to his people, he himself also couldn’t be blamed for his reaction. 

“Thank you, again,” Mando leaned forward, elbows on the table. He watched Cobb’s face carefully for any signs of dishonestly, but there wasn’t any - just that same, genuine toothy grin.  
The marshal laughed. “It’s all good, friend. New faces are more than welcome, even if at first they’re a bit..”

“Standoffish?”

“Yeah,” Vanth swiped a hand through his silver locks. Mando swallowed hard. “I was ready to blast your helmet off straight. Could have done it, too.” Cobb knocked back the rest of his drink. 

Din had to chuckle. It was evident to the both of them that Cobb would not win hand to hand, or even with blasters, but he allowed the man a small victory. “You must be familiar with a weapon, to have fought off the mining corp yourself.” 

“Mostly thanks to your peoples’ fashion choice.”

“Were you trained?’ 

“Me?” Vanth choked. “Maker, no. I was no better at shootin’ than Kalaks are at simple thought. It was a lot of chance - I was determined to make sure this town was better than how I had grown up. No person deserves to be a slave.” 

This peaked Mando’s otherwise tired attention. “You..”

“Yep. Lots of us around here were. There’s been liberations, freeing the people and what not, but it’s still there, y’know? It doesn’t just leave overnight. Hasn’t left me, I don’t think it ever will. Even if I’m not a physical slave anymore, I still have..” He swirled his cup around the table for a moment before seeming to snap out of his daze. “Well. All that’s in the past now. I’m much better with my hands now,” he added with a wink and that damn smile again, and Din felt hotter under his mask than he had all day. He could punch out Cobb’s perfect teeth. “So tell me about you, then.” The marshal added with another sip of his drink. 

“Not much to tell.” 

“Come on, there’s got to be something. We’ll start nice and easy. What’s your name?” 

Mando cocked his head. He wasn’t getting that comfortable. 

“No? Okay,” Vanth smacked his lips. “Are you human?” 

“Yes.”

“There we go!” Cobb threw a hand up. “Now we’re getting somewhere! How old are you? You seem young, pretty fit, wouldn’t see no guys with aching joints doing your kinds of jobs.” 

Din thought of his tiredness. He wasn’t old, but he didn’t feel young anymore either. 

“I’m not too old myself, don’t worry, the hair is a misnomer of its own.” The marshal ruffled his own haircut, and Mando wondered what he had meant by ‘too old’. For what? 

There was an animal howl from somewhere deep in the wastelands of sand dunes around them, and the Mandalorian clenched his jaw to suppress a yawn. He wasn’t sure he was going to make it the whole night without falling asleep. He looked around the room. There was a tattered chair that had a cushion, he could maybe doze in that for an hour or two before sunrise. 

“So how come your armour’s so much nicer than mine?” Vanth pointed at the chest plate, a look of genuine curiosity on his face.

“Mine didn’t come from a Jawa’s trashpile.” 

“I mean seriously-”

“It’s beskar. It has a long history with my people, and is nearly indestructible. Which is why it’s so valuable.” 

“More indestructible than what I’ve got on?” 

“Yes.” 

“Wow,” Cobb smirked. “So it stays on.”

“Yes.”

“All the time.”

Mando sighed. “Yes, in front of others.”

“Like, even during..” Vanth gave the Mandalorian a knowing smirk, and Din felt that familiar heat on his face return, and he turned his visor away, giving the marshal a good chuckle. “I guess that means you don’t get around much then.”

 _You don’t know me_ , Din wanted to say, but Cobb was right. The lifestyle and religion certainly didn’t allow much leeway in terms of physical relationships. Not that it mattered, he was never in one place long enough to even entertain the idea. Not that it hadn’t happened before, though it was very rare. The last time was more than a year ago, on Ithor. It was quick and messy, and she had barely touched him, save for her legs wrapped around his hips desperately. A quick lift of her dress and it was over in minutes, he hadn’t even had time to take his gloves off. He supposed it could have been the nature of her species, and he certainly didn’t like to discriminate, but the ache he had deep in his soul, a longing to just be held- 

He thought then of Omera, left behind on Sorgan, when she had tried to make him stay, and how gently she had touched his hands and helmet, and a deep longing stirred in the pit of Din’s stomach. It was not the time or the place to be thinking like that. 

Instead he watched Cobb’s gaze, which was lowered beneath thick eyelashes. He was playing with his glass again, before his eyes flicked up to meet the Mandalorian’s behind the mask. Din couldn’t deny that the marshal was ruggedly handsome, with a certain charm that could melt his beskar armour away to reveal the reserved man beneath. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds of eye contact before Cobb leaned across the table, swaying slightly with presumably the influence of alcohol in his system. “What do you look like, under there?” He asked quietly, his drawl less pronounced with his whisper. “Has anyone seen you?”

“Not since I was a child.” Mando replied, lowering his own voice to match. He felt a lump in his throat and a rise in his heart rate. He had been with men before - not many, but it was the little experience he had that kept him planted in his seat, despite the logical side of his mind telling him to leave before things escalated. He knew what the marshal wanted, he could see it in those glazed and squinting eyes, in the way his hand creeped across the table, and how his gaze swayed from the tip of the helmet to Mando’s hand which rested on the surface of the table in front of them. 

Ever so slowly, as if trying not to scare away an animal, Vanth reached over and touched Din’s glove, and he flinched away, but Cobb seized his wrist, touched that little bit of skin that poked out between his glove and sleeve. Their bare skin was melding - the marshal’s fingertips caressing the inner exposed arm of the Mandalorian. 

“Vanth-” he said shortly, unmoving. 

“Mando.” Cobb replied with a flash of teeth. His grip tightened slightly, urging Din to react. “Don’t be nervous. You won’t break my heart if you say no.” 

_I can’t say yes is the problem_. Heart racing, the Mandalorian closed his eyes behind the helmet. He relished this small contact, the way Vanth thumbed beneath his sleeve, which was pushing it, but a welcome intrusion. Somehow, Din knew the marshal needed it just as much as he did. The tell tale sign was the shudder that came from Cobb’s finger.  
“Nervous?” Mando broke the silence. “That’s saying a lot from someone who’s shaking.” 

Cobb playfully squeezed where his hand rested. “Shakin’? Nah,” he stood suddenly, his chair almost falling back, but it stayed upwards, and surprisingly so did Cobb, despite the alcohol he consumed that evening. The marshal walked around Mando’s chair, and leaned in close to the helmet, where Din’s ear would be beneath it, and whispered, “I’m just thinking about how good you’ll look sprawled on my bed.” 

Without another word, he walked down the short corridor and turned into the bedroom. The swagger in his walk said, I know you want me, with a thumb in his belt and the slow thunking of his boots against the stone floor. 

Din stayed in his seat, his hand still on the table, wrist exposed, and a stupid expression on his face behind the mask. He supposed he could just stand and leave, collect the kid in the morning, and forget this ever happened, but something kept him in the hut; Desire, loneliness, a sense of duty or repayment, a yearn to feel something more than he had before (as if this  
stranger could give what he was looking for, but it was a start in the right direction). 

Wanting to slap himself, Din resisted the urge to laugh aloud. Was he the one who had drank half a bottle of whiskey? His ache was getting the best of him. Better to deal with the issue in the bedroom before he began fantasizing too much about an easier life where he could be held whenever he desired. 

“You’re drunk,” he stated, and felt stupid after, standing in the bedroom doorway, since it was an obvious statement, but he didn’t know what else to say as he watched Cobb sitting on the edge of a bed, pulling his boot off. 

The marshal laughed mirthfully. “Yeah, well,” his second boot thumped onto the ground. “I often am. Ain’t no bother, I know what I’m doing.” Standing, the silver haired man crossed the room, standing before the Mandalorian, a bit taller, and he ran his hands down Din’s arms. “Thing is, I don’t know much about you. Tell me your name, at least, stranger.” 

He contemplated this for a moment. It couldn’t do too much harm to tell him the truth - the chance of it causing any problems were slim to none. No one else had to know. But, it would be against…

He didn’t have the chance to answer before Vanth tugged him closer towards the bed, and eventually was on his knees on the thin mattress, so they were about eye level. Cobb ran a hand over the shiny Beskar of Din’s helmet, and held either side of the mask. For a moment, Mando was worried he was going to yank it off, and instinctively, reached for his blaster, but the marshal laughed, grabbing his hand gently. 

“Just calm down, ‘kay?” He unbuckled the belt and holster from Din’s pants and cast them aside. “Don’t talk much, do you? All action?” 

“Not much to say.”  
The marshal laughed at this, and the Mandalorian wondered if he found everything funny or if he did it to cease awkward silence. “Well, you don’t gotta say anything except my name tonight, stranger.” He added with a wink, and reached forward to unhook Din’s chestplate. 

“Wait,” He stopped him with a hand on the sternum. 

Cobb instantly froze, matching Mando’s gaze in the visor, “Not okay?” 

“Not the plate. Not the helmet.” 

“Rest is fair game?” He smirked, Maker, the _smirk_ , and tugged Din’s belt loops so he stumbled forward and fell flush against Cobb. “Just cause you don’t got much to say doesn’t mean you can’t say anything. Let me know if I, uh, cross any Mandalore lines, okay?”

Din didn’t reply and stayed stiff for a moment, before reaching to unclasp his arm gauntlets, and Vanth took the message and helped him and himself taking off various weapons and belts and shielding. They did this in a comfortable silence until it was just them, the pile of extremities on the floor, and Mando’s chest armour and helmet. 

Cobb thumbed the thin fabric of the long sleeved shirt Din was still wearing, along with his pants. As they were the two items closest to his bare skin under layers of other clothes and armour, the Mandalorian was acutely aware that he probably smelled a bit ripe from the hot desert, and felt embarrassed, but if Vanth could tell, he didn’t seem to care. His bare hands rubbed across Din’s stomach and he got a glint in his eyes. Clearly, whatever Din was doing by just standing there, straight as a board, was getting Vanth off, because he moaned quietly before meeting Mando’s eyeline. 

“You’re a real work, y’know that?” 

Din wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, but he let Cobb guide him to lay down on the bed, and watched as the marshal straddled him, then reached to grab the hem of his own shirt and pulled it over his head. 

His sun kissed skin gleamed with the warmth of the desert sky, and his toned chest tensed as Vanth shifted his weight to get more comfortable in the Mandalorian’s lap. 

“Enjoying the view?” The silver haired man teased.

Mando hummed in response, placing his ungloved hands on the marshal’s hips. “Be a lot better if you weren’t being so kriffing slow.” 

“Wow, eager much, stranger?”

“Stop calling me that,” Mando squeezed Vanth’s hips a little harder. ‘Stranger’ made it feel wrong.

The marshal laughed, ever amused. “Well, you won’t tell me-”

“Shut up, or I’ll leave.” He retorted, a little harsher than intended. “Just..” 

Cobb smiled gently this time, his hands gently meeting Din’s on his sides, then nodded in understanding. “S’okay. Lemme show you what I can do.” 

Leaning down, the marshal brought his face into the crook of Din’s neck, and the Mandalorian tilted his helmet away to allow excess. His breath hitched as he felt the kind lips sucking a spot on his throat. A deep groan left his chest as Cobb rotated his hips in place, grinding against Din’s lap. 

Vanth tugged the collar of the other man’s shirt, kissing along his collarbone and licking sweet stripes anywhere he could reach. He tugged at the chest plate, back and forth, before sitting up and swiping his flopping hair out of his face. 

“You gonna keep that dinner plate on or are we gonna man up about this?” 

Mando rolled his eyes behind his visor, but couldn’t help his own small smirk. He unfastened the armour with a sigh, and gently cast it aside on the bed, then sat up to pull off his shirt, carefully, over the helmet. 

Adjusting himself in the lap, Cobb wrapped his long legs around Mando’s waist. “Hot damn. Open the chest, and reveal the treasure within,” he joked, running his hands up and down Din’s front. “Nice tits.” He playfully squeezed a pectoral, and he wriggled, making the Mandalorian hard in his pants, faster than he would have liked to admit. Cobb could obviously feel him underneath, and gave a knowing smile, before pulling them close together, their bare chests touching each other. 

Vanth had less chest hair than Din did, but it tickled a little nonetheless. The marshal kissed his bedmate’s shoulder, then bit it playfully, before whispering into his ear.

“Maker, you’re so hot,” he muttered, rolling his hips again. “Bet you’re strong, too.” He ran a hand up Mando’s bicep, stopping to squeeze the muscle there. “But you ain’t gotta do any heavy lifting tonight. Just relax. You’re wound up tighter than an ignition coil.” He rubbed Din’s shoulders, letting him know he was safe - they were safe, in this moment. Maybe Mando would never be able to let his guard down fully, but he would try, tonight. He also enjoyed that Vanth was implying there would be another night, where Din’s strength would be needed. 

He looked down as Cobb fiddled with their pants, before reaching into the Mandalorian’s briefs to stroke him a few times. A sense of embarrassment fell over Din as he panted, feeling very warm under his helmet. It had been awhile since he was on the receiving end of intimacy, usually opting for showing others a good time, but Cobb had a sly look of determination that told him it wasn’t the marshal’s first rodeo when it came to taking charge.

The dry contact on his cock was a bit uncomfortable, but Din braced himself on Vanth as the marshal pulled it out from the confines of his pants, stroking a little harder now. 

“Nice,” Cobb flashed his perfect teeth again. 

“Shut up,” Mando inhaled sharply at a particularly painful tug of his skin, and Cobb pulled his hand away, his stupid grin still growing, ear to ear. 

They sat in silence for a second, the room warm and their skin beginning to perspire. Suddenly, the silver haired man ran his hand up to Din’s collarbone, before touching his jaw beneath the helmet. 

The Mandalorian tensed, used to the concern that his mask would be ripped away - it had almost happened far too many times recently, more than he could recall - but instead the marshal’s fingers found Din’s mouth. 

“Suck,” he ordered, with a tint of that sheriff attitude he had seen with the townspeople earlier that evening. Not used to being submissive, Din hesitated, and when Cobb didn’t break eye contact, the bounty hunter obediently parted his lips and brought the digits onto his tongue. 

They tasted rough and vaguely of alcohol, but his tongue swirled around them before releasing, feeling a bit of drool escape his lips. 

“Well, at least you ain’t got fangs,” Cobb muttered with a laugh. 

“I told you I’m-”

“Human, yeah,” the marshal’s wet fingers resting on Din’s jaw, “but you could say anything to ride one out.” 

“You’re vulgar.” Mando didn’t say this with any particular venom, and he wasn’t sure why he had said it, considering he himself had spoken some pretty crass comments in moments of passion, but he found himself now wishing that Cobb would just shut up and get a move on. 

The marshal didn’t reply but drew a wet stripe down Din’s chest with the saliva before capturing the dark haired man’s cock once more, this time slick for ease. “There, that’s better, innit?” 

The Mandalorian did not justify this with spoken words but a tightening of his muscles in response to the pumping of Vanth’s hand and a quiet gasp, amplified through the helmet’s modulator. 

“There’s a good boy,” the marshall encouraged, licking and biting his lip. “Maker, I wish I could see you under there, writhing - bet that mouth can do a lot.” 

_Shutupshutupshutup-_

“I would love to feel your pretty lips wrapped around-”

“You could.” Mando interrupted. _Fuck. Too late now._ “You can. If you want.” 

The hand stopped moving and Cobb shifted in his lap. “I thought..”

“If, uh,” the bounty hunter paused for a moment. This was so stupid. He felt stupid. Embarrassed, even. The last time he had done this it was a wild night full of handcuffs and blindfolds and rough play, but it had worked. It felt really against the creed, but technically it was a loophole. Cobb would never actually see him, and that was most of it, anyways. “If you wear something over your eyes. I can take it off.” He finished plainly. His heart was beating so hard against his ribcage. “Like, your..your scarf, or something.” 

The marshal’s eyes widened a little and a cat like grin spread wildly across his face. “Whoohee!” He clapped his palms together loudly, like he hadn’t just been giving Din a handjob five seconds before. “You’re just full of surprises, stranger!” Cobb clambered off of Mando’s lap, rifling through the clothes they had tossed around, “I’d be happy as a bantha in Winter to, a minute now, to take you up on your - aha!” He pulled up the red garment triumphantly. “I didn’t peg you as the kinky sort, but then again, I haven't pegged you yet, have I?”

“Don’t make me take it back.” Din warned, pulling his pants down but keeping on his briefs, after having tucked himself back in. He stood to offer to help tie the scarf, but the marshal stepped back and held out a hand to stop. 

“Wait a minute. Oh, yeah.” He looked at the Mandalorian, who was standing in nothing but underwear and his helmet, and he rubbed his chin and bit his lip with a smirk. “I’m just taking it in. Gotta give me something to think about if I’m going blind in a minute.” 

Not feeling one way or the other about it, Din let him gawk for a minute, his arms sitting lamely at his sides for a minute before he sighed. “Are you done?” 

“No rush,” Cobb laughed, but turned around nonetheless, offering the cloth over his head, and with nimble fingers, Din tied it tightly around the marshal’s eyes. The silver haired man turned slowly, his arms out like a bird to feel the space around him. “Mando?” 

“Yeah. Can you see?” 

“Nothin’. I swear.” 

There was a comfortable quiet in the air, as Cobb relaxed and stood still, clearly waiting for a go ahead. At that prompt, Din reached up and carefully pulled his head free from the Beskar and knelt down to place it on the floor. He inhaled a deep breath of mildly fresh air, and ruffled his curls, knowing his helmet hair was probably terrible. At least Vanth wouldn’t see. 

Cobb stood with a goofy grin, and only flinched slightly at the unexpected contact of the Mandalorian touching his hands. He ran his fingers up and down the marshal’s forearms twice before using the connection to bring the older man closer - and slowly brought their hands to hover above Din’s cheeks. 

With a sharp inhale, Mando melted skin to skin, and gasped quietly at the sensation of Vath’s palms flush against his face. The feeling of having his head cradled in someone’s hands was unmatched - the marshal gently brushed his thumbs across his lips, then touched his nose (where underneath he was sporting a pretty decent moustache), ghosted over his eyelids, and ran his fingers through the bounty hunter’s hair, playfully tugging when he was done. 

“ ‘Feel handsome,” Cobb whispered. “Ready to fuck now?” 

“Shut _up_.” Mando growled low, roughly yanking open Cobb’s pants, to which he only got a snort of laughter. 

“Whoa now,” he said, as if calming a taun taun. It was a hopeless cause, trying to get the man to be quiet for longer than five seconds. 

Din switched their places, so the sheriff was closest to the bed, and eased him into a sitting position. The marshal warily held his hands hovering above the mattress, before relaxing and wiggling a little in the spot. 

“The suspense is killin’ me,” he whispered, his eyeline upwards as he waited for Mando to make a move. 

Din moved down onto his knees in front of the marshal, gently running his hands up and down his thighs. The silver haired man gasped in reaction, and moved quickly to take off his pants. Once they were thrown away, the bounty hunter gave a gentle kiss right beside the other man’s belly button, then another just below. With a gentle and soft movement, Din pulled the cock from Cobb’s underwear and gave it a firm tug. 

“Ah-” Vanth grunted, his beautiful mouth hanging open, then found the Mandalorian’s hair with one hand. “Please..” 

“Please what?” Din found himself taking his usual charge, which caused the marshal to giggle and grin. 

“Slow down there, stranger, I thought I was the big man here.” 

“Then act like it and tell me what you want.” 

Cobb gripped Din’s hair tightly, earning a groan of surprise, but also arousal. “Take my cock in your pretty little mouth and suck like a good boy.” 

Mando attempted to pull the grip from his curls away. “Don’t do that.” He growled. 

“Like you don’t like it,” The marshal grinned, “ _stranger_.” 

Din wanted to slap him and his _stupid goddamn smile_ \- but he opted to not do anything drastic and instead took Cobb in his mouth, deep and fast, earning a second hand tangled in his hair. He gripped the man’s thighs hard as he bobbed his head up and down, taking in the marshal’s taste and girth. 

“Pfassk-” Vanth moaned. “Oh, fuck..Maker-” His grip tightened in the Mandalorian’s hair. 

Din hummed in reply, running his hands to the marshal’s waist and keeping him still while he worked his tongue around the head of the older man’s cock. He felt dirty and debauched to be on the marshal’s floor with his member in his mouth. Someone who he had only met a day ago, grasping at his body desperately under his lips. It was exhilarating if not madly loose of him. 

Cobb’s gasps grew faster. “Kriff, kriff, kriff,” he used the hands in Din’s hair to move him away, and the bounty hunter stopped, with some drool escaping his lips. “Wait,” the marshal panted. 

“What’s wrong?” Din rasped. 

“I don’t want to finish yet. I’ve got a good time to show you as well, partner.”

The Mandalorian paused for a minute, letting the air return to his lungs, and gently smoothed his palms down Cobb’s thighs. “Sure. Where do you, uh,” 

“On the bed. Come on now,” Vanth patted the mattress and stood, carefully, his lack of eyesight clearly a mild hindrance as he tumbled across the room to get something from a drawer. The bounty hunter laid back on the bed, and took off his underwear, now completely nude in the presence of the silver haired man, who was none the wiser. It felt fairly freeing, but Din knew it was a dangerous game. If he got too comfortable with the beskar off, he may never put it back on. That was a terrifying thought, because as much as he could pretend to deny it, it was something he could see happening if he did it too often. 

This was interrupted as Cobb practically fell into the bed, bracing himself with his hands, with a small jar of what Din assumed was lube in his palm. 

“I’m back. Did you miss me?” Cobb grinned in the direction he must have thought was the bounty hunter, but too far to the right and Din felt a wave of warmth run through him. Unfamiliar but kind. 

The Mandalorian gently took Cobb’s cheek in his hand to turn his face in the right place. “Immensely.” He joked with a small smirk, and ran his thumb down the marshal’s cheekbone. There was a moment of comfortable silence, the two of them sharing the warmth together. 

“Are you gonna kiss me?” Vanth leaned forward a little. “Or were you waiting for me to be the big man and tell you what I want?” 

With that, the bounty hunter captured Cobb’s mouth with his own in a passionate kiss. The moment their lips touched, Din gasped and pressed harder, grabbing both sides of the Marshal’s head. Vanth returned the passion, with a hand in Mando’s hair (Din was beginning to think Cobb really liked his hair), and rubbing Mando’s back with the other. 

They moved their tongues together, engaging in a long, hot embrace, before Cobb’s hand wandered down to discover Din’s nakedness. 

“Oh, hello,” he purred. “Nice buns, stranger.” He squeezed a cheek much to the bounty hunter’s unamusement. “Really cheeked up back there. I love a good set of-”

“Shut up.” Din hissed, moving to nibble the marshal’s ear. “I thought you had something you were going to do.” 

Cobb laughed. “Oh yes,” he was holding up the jar that had been set on the bed. “Time to oil up, stranger.” 

Pushing Din down, Vanth settled on his knees between the Mandalorian’s legs after pulling off his own underwear, then spread some lube into his palm, lathering his cock in it, completely blind behind the red scarf. He kept grinning, excitement beaming off of him. The bounty hunter was on his back, propped by his elbows, and watching the display. Cobb’s confident movements and beautiful body, sprinkled with gray hair and tanned skin, was truly a sight to behold. Din felt a tad self conscious about himself, if just for a moment. Did he hold up to Vanth’s standards? Clearly he did to some extent, but their bodies were different in ways that the Mandalorian thought too hard about. 

The marshal was lanky, though toned, with graying hair and smooth movements. He was tall with sharp cheekbones and a handsome smile. Din had never smiled in a mirror. He didn’t know what it looked like. He had once noted his nose curved in a way that made him think of a bird. Din’s body was thicker, and he was shorter. His wild curls often tickled his forehead under the helmet, and his facial hair was nowhere near as well kept as Cobb’s marvelous beard. 

Din laughed quietly. How stupid. It was ridiculous to compare his own beauty to someone else’s - no one had seen him in over a decade and nobody ever would. These were the sorts of thoughts that would emerge when his armour was off. More reasons to get it over with quickly and into the comfort of his usual beskar shell. Underneath it, he paid no mind to things as petty as looks. 

“Okay, relax. Lay back.” Cobb felt outward until he touched the bounty hunter’s chest. He then pushed the Mandalorian down onto his back, and hooked his leg over his shoulder. The marshal took a moment to get comfortable. “Do you need me to rev you up a little, stranger? Get a finger in there?” 

“N-no,” Mando swallowed hard and looked at the ceiling. “No, just do it.” 

“Alright, stranger. Goin’ in.” 

“Din.” _Dank ferrick. Fuck. Fuck. Stupid._

The marshal paused. He cocked his head, and turned his face downwards, as if he could see, and for a moment, Mando wondered if the sheriff had lied, and was staring at the man beneath him now. 

“What’s that? ‘Din’?” Cobb was grasping the bounty hunter’s leg. 

Din took a deep breath and sighed. “My name. Din. Please- not ‘stranger’.”

“Din. Din, Din. Huh.” Vanth smiled widely. He said it a few more times. “Thank you.” He whispered sincerely, and leaned down to kiss the Mandalorian, who quickly moved to meet his lips, or else he would have gotten a wet one to the eye. 

The marshal’s blindness was rather amusing as he felt around him to move the jar out of harm’s way, before repositioning himself with a sturdy grip on the Mandalorian. “Alright, Din.” Another smile. “Ready?” 

“Yes,” Din replied, and hissed through clamped teeth as he felt Vanth push into him eagerly. His fingers curled around the sheets harshly, and his back arched with the movement of Cobb burying himself deep inside. “Maker-” he gasped. 

“Kriff, that’s good. Oh, yeah.” Vanth panted for a second, before pulling out almost all the way, then pushing back in. He did this twice more slowly before picking up speed. His thrusts were precise and confident, like the rest of his personality. His hands moved to either side of Din’s head, adjusting his body, and Mando moved his leg from the shoulder and wrapped his thighs around Cobb’s waist. 

The new angle brought a wave of pleasure to crash over the bounty hunter’s body, he spread his arms out, arching and writing in arousal beneath the sheriff. “Fuck- Cobb-”

“Yeah? You like that?” The marshal panted with a wide smile, rolling his hips into Din. “You take it good.”

“Come on,” the Mandalorian grunted, wiggling his hips to encourage his bedmate to move faster. “Move.” 

“Oh, kriff, yes,” Vanth withdrew and pushed back in, and began that quick pace again, pounding into the bounty hunter with such speed that the mattress groaned horribly beneath them. Din briefly thought of the kid, wishing he had brought the egg shaped carrier for him to sleep in, lessening the chances of him waking to the sound of the men in bed together. But he knew the child was a fairly heavy sleeper, which settled his mind a bit to allow him to focus on the situation at hand. 

A deep warmth shuddered through the Mandalorian’s abdomen, and he moaned louder than intended, grasping at the sheets with renewed desperation. He wished then that he could meet the marshal’s eyes - those striking hazel eyes - but that was too much. He already had the blessing of a name, and Din couldn’t risk giving more than that. 

Cobb picked up on the direness of Mando’s need and sat up, gripping Din’s hips with his sturdy hands, allowing the bounty hunter to arch his back, supported by his broad shoulders, and the marshal pushed a few deep thrusts in, grinning ear to ear. 

“Come on, baby, come on,” Cobb purred as he went for it, pushing and rolling to get the most out of their new position. “You like that? Oh, you feel so good. Din. Come for me. Come for me.” 

The Mandalorian panted and moaned, sweat and sex and heat filling the room, that wonderful tension pooling inside of him and he pushing himself as well as he could to meet the marshal’s perfect thrusting, and he shuddered and gasped as cum shot all over his own stomach, warm and more than eupphric as he rode out the high of his orgasm. 

“Oh fuck, yes, Din, good boy,” Cobb kept pounding, quickly, hitting those sensitive spots until Din felt himself fill with warmth as the marshal came hard, shaking and groaning, before he collapsed on top of the bounty hunter was a quiet sigh. 

They laid in silence, both panting and hot and sweaty, but together. Din found himself reaching for Cobb’s hair, gently running his hand through it. It was soft and fluffy, and his fingers were able to comb through it seamlessly. This brought a gentle smile to the bounty hunter’s lips. 

In turn, Vanth made little circles with his fingers on Din’s chest, humming in satisfaction. 

“That was good,” Cobb whispered, seemingly content with not moving. “Nice. Very nice. You’re not half bad.” 

“Your thoughtful words are inspiring.” 

They both chuckled, and Cobb adjusted himself, slipping himself out carefully, then settling back on the Mandalorian’s chest to continue their post-sex cuddle. 

He liked to think of that. That they were cuddling. He couldn’t remember the last time he had let someone cuddle him. Certainly not any of his previous endeavours, though to be fair, he had never had sex on a bed with them, so there hadn’t been any chance for something so intimate. Din shifted his weight a little and sighed contently. He figured it must have been his mother or father who had last held him lovingly, but he tried not to dwell on that. 

Now, Cobb, still with his scarf on (Din thought the world of that - the marshal was incredibly trustworthy), seemed to be close to sleep, so the bounty hunter gently nudged him. 

“I should put something on. The kid might come in here when he wakes up,” 

“Hmph.” Vanth huffed against the Mandalorian’s chest, before rolling over to release his bedmate. “Fine, but come right back.” 

Din climbed off the bed and found his shorts and shirt, and after climbing into them, he picked the helmet off the floor and stared into the visor. The armour felt heavy in his hands, and the idea of placing it back on was less than appealing after a, dared he say it, fun evening. He glanced back at the mattress, where Cobb lay with his hands behind his head and everything on show, and Din smiled lightly. 

A gentle kiss was placed on the marshal’s lips, and when he pulled the scarf from Cobb’s eyes, the bounty hunter had returned the beskar to its usual spot on his head. The sheriff blinked a few times in the dim light as he sat up, with Mando moving to let him past. Cobb slipped his underwear on before climbing back into bed, this time moving the blankets and crawling under. 

An extended hand from the marshal was an invitation for the Mandalorian to join him back in the warmth of the bed, and without hesitation, Din joined him, tucking them into the sheets and settling down. The silver haired man wriggled next to Din, resting against his broad chest. 

Still sticky with sweat and cum, it was only mildly uncomfortable not to shower immediately, but the bounty hunter knew there was always the morning. The next day would be wildly unpredictable and full of danger, but deep in his gut, the Mandalorian knew it would end well. 

As if reading his thoughts, the marshal shifted slightly. “Nervous for tomorrow?”

“No,” Din answered honestly. “We’ll have what we need to defeat the dragon.”  
“I’m worried about those damn Tuskans.” Cobb huffed. “If something goes awry-”

“It won’t.” The bounty hunter assured. “They’re..a little rough around the edges, but they’ll keep their word and help. Don’t worry about it. Just rest now.” 

“Alright,” Cobb laughed a little, rubbing his hand across the other man’s waist. “Din, the Mandalorian. Hell. You’re quite something. It’ll be an honour to take down that Krayt menace tomorrow by your side.” 

“Same to you. Rest well, Marshal.”

“Goodnight, Din.” 

Cobb drifted to sleep quite quickly after that, leaving Din with his arms wrapped around the marshal and his late night thoughts. He deeply inhaled, smelling the desert winds in Cobb’s hair. The cool evening breeze that drifted from the window was comforting, and the only noises to be heard were crickets, and the drifting of the thin curtain blowing quietly in the wind. 

Din was at peace, on that evening, content to lay with a man he enjoyed the company of curled in his arms, and the child safely sleeping in the room next to them. The next day would bring adventure and battle, but now, Din was safe and happy, as he drifted into a deep sleep, in the sanctuary of the marshal’s home.

**Author's Note:**

> There we go! I hope you guys liked it, I wrote like 4000 words two days after watching the episode, didn't touch it for weeks, then speedwrote the rest in like three hours. Anyways. All kudos and comments are super appreciated! Thank you so much!


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